Thunderstruck
by superwhosaur
Summary: He could hear the thunder claps outside and what he was sure was rain this time but one thing he was sure of, he wasn't going to be target practice again.
1. Chapter 1

Calloused fingers impatiently tapped against the tan fabric of a trench coat, off sync with the guitar rhythm of a song that whined softly through the speakers. The angel sprawled across the backseat in boredom, watching as rays of light shifted with the motion of the 1967 Impala, highlighting golden strands of the driver's sandy brown hair. His green eyes catching the angel's gaze in the rearview mirror, capturing him in a matching stare before settling back on the road. Endless rows of corn blurred as the Impala roared down the open road, an occasional passing car or farm house in the distance taking away from the monotony of the corn. A town had come into view and the angel righted himself against the stitched leather bench seat. It was the only town the three men had seen for hours and their last chance to get out of the cramped space before leaving the state.

Sam and Dean parked the Impala in an empty gravel lot to walk into town for some food from a convenience store down the road, leaving Cas to stay with the car. It wasn't a habit the Winchesters wanted to continue on with, parking so far away, but after being cooped up in the car with Cas for three days straight, they decided the short walk would be good for them. They didn't want or need the crass angel saying anything to piss off the locals in this area anyhow. It seemed everyone in these parts carried a gun on their person and most of them didn't need any extra coaxing to use them. Except it turned out it wouldn't have been a problem anyhow. The town was practically deserted, and the only sign of life was an occasional face in the window, peering out at the brothers through drawn back curtains. Sam looked at Dean who shrugged in response, frowning. Something wasn't right, but there was no one around to explain the reasoning.

Cas, left to his own devices, fiddled with his calloused hands after propping himself against the side of the Impala. The warm summer breeze that tickled his skin felt nice and for a second, he wondered what it would be like to wear something other than his usual garb. The thought of taking off the trench coat made the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. What a day that would be. Lazily shoving himself away from the car, he turned around to see his vessel's reflection in the window, studying it casually as if he were gazing at a stranger. That unruly brown hair complimented by eyes as blue as the ocean, and that incessant 5 o'clock shadow he never stopped shaving. How his vessel's wife must have pictured him and the memories they made, just as people saw him now. No longer Jimmy Novak, devoted husband and father, but rather Castiel, a fallen angel. Never in a million years had he thought this was how his life would turn out. Riding around with the Winchesters in the backseat of their car; saving people, hunting things. It was their family business after all.

Still contemplating the reflection of the scruffy tax collector in a trench coat, he noticed two suited individuals in the large grass field behind him. He shook his head, straining his eyes harder into the reflection, making sure that he wasn't in fact seeing things. He spun around on his heel to realize they were two of his brothers striding randomly in the field. He was instantly confused about the scene unfolding before him. Something obviously wasn't right, seeing as there were angels waltzing around a grass field in the middle of nowhere. But there was something else that he couldn't put his finger on. Something far worse he felt and it made him clutch at his stomach as it churned with worry. Dean called it a gut feeling, but Cas didn't understand the reference since he never felt anything in his gut besides the occasional craving for cheeseburgers.

Instantly, he was up on his toes walking in their direction. He opted to travel on foot, leery of what kind of situation he had on his hands and hopped the fence, wading through the waist high grass leaving a mowed trail in his wake. The closer he got, the more he was sure they were caught in a trance, only blank stares occasionally meeting him in the distance. He thought this to be odd and even more so when they stopped abruptly to look up to the sky to where Cas had noticed a wall of ominous clouds furiously rolling in. His face furrowed with concern only confirming his suspicions that Heaven was up to no good. His brothers seemed to suddenly snap out of their trance just long enough to give Cas a terrified and pleading look. He tried running to them but was flattened by a crack of light that struck down from seemingly nowhere, nearly missing him in the process. It seared into the earth leaving behind nothing but scorched grass and a black crater in its wake.

Cas crawled to his feet to find his brothers hopelessly trying to escape with their lives, hap hazardously dodging the beams of light that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Taking a longer look at the sky above, he saw clouds that were compact and shapely, definitely not free floating and soft. He watched in horror as his brothers were struck down one by one, that familiar white angelic light flashing from the sea of grass that swallowed them whole. Castiel, realizing the situation at hand and the black clouds that still threatened above, feared he would be next so he materialized to the driver's seat of the black car, cursing Dean for taking the keys with him. It seemed only right, because Cas had never driven a car and he would surely crash it if given the opportunity but at the moment he did not care. He needed to get to the boys, to protect them, but when he shut his eyes to leave, he only reopened them to find himself still sitting in the car. He yanked and yanked on the door handles which all seemed to be stuck. It reminded him of Dean's silly little expressions whenever he found himself in sticky situations. His particular favorite was son of a bitch–or was it seriously? It was always something different.

A rotating black cloud formed over the Impala at an astonishing speed, blocking out the light from the sun, masking the gravel lot around him in an eerie dimness he could have mistaken for dusk. Another crack of thunder made both Cas and the car shudder. He looked out the window and shrieked, seeing a twister forming from the clouds directly above. This wasn't good, not at all. Giving the doors one last defeated yank, he buckled himself in and searched for anything bolted in that he could grip to, settling on the steering wheel. The thrust from the tornado pitched his head cracking against the window as the metal frame of the car groaned and creaked. He peered out the window again, only seeing debris swirling around him making him dizzy at the sight. He knew he wasn't on the ground anymore, but a small part of him still hoped that he was. His knuckles turned white as the car started to spin uncontrollably within the twister. He shut his eyes tight anticipating his time was running out quick. He tried to relieve himself by remembering when Dean made him watch the movie Twister with him. He could still taste the salty popcorn and see the hearty smile on Dean's face as they sat silently on the couch together. Cas had asked so many questions about the movie which should have aggravated Dean into ordering him to leave, but he just continued to laugh it off and answer his questions. It amazed him that even after all they had been through, what Cas had put him through; Dean still always gave him another chance. The humans' ability of tolerance and forgiveness never ceased to amaze Cas and Dean was living proof. He dragged in a deep breath trying to sooth the pit that was forming in his stomach. _We're family. I need you. _It seemed he always got himself into these situations, and it was always Dean who picked up the pieces. He shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

The car plummeted, flipping to the ground with a loud crash. Glass shattered everywhere, metal contorting in ways it wasn't meant to. The metal frame caving in, leaving the innards sardined, crushing Cas between the seat and the roof. The clouds had vanished but he was left in a bloody, broken heap, his body draped over the back of the bench seat. The pressure from the decimated metal starved him of air was a major problem as he struggled to free his body that was contorted five ways to Sunday. One arm had gotten stuck behind his head in the cramped space while the other had lost all feeling being trapped under his body. He tried to shift his weight enough to free his arm and push out the roof and within a few minutes he had adjusted himself enough to straighten the metal back out. He flopped to the ground with a grunt, rolling over in relief. Kicking his way out of the twisted frame, he staggered breathlessly away from the vehicle. When he caught his breath again, he painfully straightened himself out to inspect the damage.

It startled him when he heard a bellow from behind, almost jumping out of his skin. He cringed. "What the hell, Cas? I leave you for one second and–" He stopped midsentence when Sam nudged him, pointing to the charred field. Dean stepped towards the man in a trench coat to take a better look, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady the shaking angel. "Cas, what happened? You ok?"

Cas stuttered trying to catch his voice, "I–I think Heaven just tried to kill me."

Dean took in a fistful of the torn trench coat, giving Cas a once over. Satisfied, there was no serious damage, he let him go and stepped towards his car, distraught at the sight. Sam ran both his hands through his hair, pacing slowly. He took in scene, from the totaled car to the scorched fields. He heard some distant thunder from town, but he hadn't given it a second thought. What the hell happened? He spun around to the disquieting sound of Castiel's voice booming over his brother. "I need to know what's going on up there. Let go of me, Dean. Please." He shoved away from Dean, his trench coat slipping away from his tight hold. "Cas, are you insane? Heaven just tried to barbeque you and you want to drop in for a visit? No way, man. I can't let you do that." But before Dean could finish his spiel, Cas was gone. Sam frowned at where Cas had been standing.

Minutes later, he returned sagging to the ground with blood oozing from his mouth and ears. Dean and Sam rushed over to him and held him up, trying to keep the battered angel on his feet. "Dammit, Cas." Dean swore under his breath, more scared than he wanted to let on. "We need to get him to a hospital!" Sam shook his head, taking in the damage on the Impala versus Cas and reasoned with him that they weren't going anywhere without help. Sam looked up and saw a cloaked figure walking towards them down the road. He pointed and shouted, "Dean! Maybe that man can help us! If we could just find someone to drive us–"

Cas jerked, spitting blood from his mouth. "No! Sam d-don't!" He stammered trying to tug the brothers away from the direction the man was coming from. The angel was clearly distressed so they pulled him to the back of the Impala. "We need to get out of here now! That–that man is not... we aren't safe!" He was gripping both of them by their shirts now. "Cas what are you talking about? Who is that?" Sam said with urgency, alarmed that Cas had even been frightened by someone. "Barachiel…" He shook his head in disbelief. "He's supposed to be dead. I don't understand. I watched him die." The blank stare worsened and Castiel rose to his feet like nothing had ever been wrong with him, stepping from behind the car and stopped in his tracks. He was still bloody and beaten but everything the boys shouted begged went unnoticed. Dean tried to pull Cas back behind the Impala but he wouldn't budge. "Son of a bitch! He must be under a spell," he hissed. Sam nudged Dean and motioned up at the sky. Black clouds were rolling in and fast. They looked back at each other quizzically. "You think that's how the angels got deep fried extra crispy?" Sam leaned in quietly. "I don't know, but Cas is gonna end up just like them if we don't do something like now."

A deafening crack of thunder jolted the Winchesters, shaking the ground they stood on. This was no ordinary thunderstorm. The rumble was so distracting they hadn't noticed the cloaked man had moved within shooting distance. Sam fumbling for the pistol wedged in the small of his back, gasped as the man swiftly raised his hands above his head with a sharp clap. A lightning bolt struck from the sky causing Sam and Dean to shy away from the electricity consumed the man's body, settling in the tips of his fingers. He rolled the blue light about his fingertips, ogling at the voltage with intense pleasure. Switching the intense stare on the frozen angel, the corners of his mouth lifted into a crooked little smile. The boys tried to get a better look at the dark figure controlling lighting from his fingertips. The black hood concealed most of his features, leaving his mouth and nose clear in sight. He turned his hands over so they were parallel to the pavement. Before the brothers could comprehend what was happening, spider webs of blue light shot from his fingers faster than they could blink, striking Cas to the ground. Sam shot furiously at the man as he vanished into thin air. Dean screamed and ran to catch Cas, cradling his twitching, stiff body in his arms. He checked for a pulse but remembered angels didn't have one. Sammy knelt next to Dean, towering over him and the unconscious angel and squeezed his shoulder tight. Tears rolled down Dean's cheeks as he pressed his forehead against Cas, sucking in a sharp, unsteady breath. He rasped softly, "you can't die on me now, man. Not like this."


	2. Chapter 2

When an angel dies where do they go? We know of Heaven and Hell and the spaces in between but where do Heaven's soldiers lay to rest when there is nothing left to give and their wings spent? Some say there's a dark void in which the angels are trapped for the rest of eternity, while others imagine lives of grandeur. But no one truly knows the secrets behind God himself. Where did the protectors of Heaven and earth go when God was gone and their time is up? Castiel spent most of his life following orders and roaming Earth with no purpose or aspiration that was until he met the Winchesters. Questions rose, wars were fought, the Word itself rewritten. Yet the only thing that remained constant were those boys, the men who welcomed him into their tight-knit family with open arms. He would do anything for them. Hell he'd even given his life for them on a number of occasions. But that was no matter anymore. They were his family. And that's all that mattered to Cas.

He had been here before, this dark void. It was cold and lonesome, but not the way you feel sitting on a park bench alone on a rainy night. No, this was far worse. It was like having everything that made you existential ripped away, leaving you void of all feeling and emotion. Not that Cas was any good at feeling anyway, but for an angel he was considered quite emotional. He tried to remember how he had gotten here this time, piecing together the broken fragments of his memory. He remembered watching his brothers get struck down, turning into dust. Being trapped in the Impala with nowhere to go then getting ambushed and having the shit beat out of him in Heaven and cast out. But he remembered most of all, the look on Dean's face when he pleaded with him not to leave. He knew in hindsight it would have been best to listen to Dean but instead his actions put them both in danger. This had been becoming a pattern between them, but he had never been good at listening or taking orders, not completely.

The course of his day came trickling back one by one and there in the center of everything was Barachiel–a fallen angel who could summon lightning with a snap of his fingers and the fiercest guardian of the Throne. He was one of the most feared archangels under Lucifer who was supposedly killed by Michael himself during the resistance. Cas watched Michael strike the angel of lightning down. He had been there fighting side by side with his brothers, slaughtering his own kind for the sake of peace. That's how it always was though. Everyone says they want peace and the only way they know how to achieve it was by warfare and violence. Cas recalled once before man, before earth really, of a time when there was no war, just peace. He longed for a time like that once more, but the desire only made him feel foolish. The only peace he found these days were the ones he could spend with the Winchesters. He thought of Dean, wanting to ache and grieve for leaving him behind but he couldn't feel a thing. A question bubbled to the surface of his mind which pulled and pulled at him. Why?

It was only a matter of time until the void he was floating endlessly in plummeted to a dark pit, sending Castiel crashing down from weightlessness. The pit was dark and foggy, or what he presumed as fog. Either way he had to squint to see anything which he decided was a waste of effort. Upon pushing up from whatever solid surface he was laying on, he warily glanced up to meet two piercing ice blue eyes that cut through him like a knife. "Castiel. So glad you could make it. You know, I've been waiting for this day. To be reunited with my brothers and sisters. But the funny thing is, they haven't been as happy to see me as I have them." Cas rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Yeah… I wonder why." Barachiel was on Cas faster than he could catch his breath and held him up by his neck, robbing him of any air he had left in his lungs. "You know, Castiel," he seethed, "I've never liked being treated with disrespect. Why don't we try this again?" Cas felt a horrible pain sear through his abdomen, a silent cry escaping from his crushed throat. Barachiel grinned wickedly once more and dropped him nonchalantly to the floor. He stepped hack and brought his hand up lazily to inspect his fingertips, which were still cracklingwith electricity. "What fun this is, you and me. Here Together. Just like old times, isn't it?" Cas coughed and wheezed, looking down to see his clothes singed, again. He looked up to Barachiel, tears stinging his eyes from the gut wrenching sensation coursing through his body. "Why are you doing this?" he managed to croak out, his throat dry and sore. Barachiel spun on his heel leaning in closer to the struggling angel's face, his eyes wild with what Cas thought was either terror or just pure insanity. "I have my reasons just like you had yours, Castiel. Oh, and before you go calling me crazy, let's not forget who tried to play God here." Cas turned away hanging his head in shame and slumping over to clutch at his stomach which still seared with pain. Barachiel sighed, knowing well he hit a sensitive nerve. He smirked and wagged a finger at the crippled angel. "It's time you know what's really going on around here so pay close attention."


	3. Chapter 3

"But Dean, he's been out for days. How do you know he isn't... oh, never mind. You need to eat. Here, I got you some pie." Sam let out a breath of frustration. His concern for his ailing brother was growing more every day as was the mystery of the hooded man who shot Cas down with lightning from his fingertips. All the years they'd been hunting, he'd never seen anything with that amount of power. Not even Thor's hammer could amount to it. He strolled reluctantly to his laptop after handing Dean his pie and glanced over to Kevin who was wrapping away at Sam's laptop. "Find anything?" Kevin shot an irritated look up at Sam. "It would go a lot faster if we had an angel, who was you know, alive?" Dean shoved from his chair noisily and stormed off, every ounce of him restraining from ripping the snarky kid a new one. Kevin swallowed, knowing well he should have kept his mouth shut. He mouthed sorry to Sam who was giving him a death glare. Kevin cleared his throat, changing his tone entirely. "From what I've found in common lore, Barachiel was one of the seven archangels amongst the four we already know of. He was one of the four leaders of the seraphim and had endless control over lightning." He paused, training his eyes on the screen. The thought of a Zachariah on steroids made Sam cringe. An angel with a two wing ego was bad enough, let alone six and this one seemed to have anger management issues. "Right. So I'm getting a lot of stuff about him being cast out because he helped Lucifer during the rebellion but supposedly Michael had ganked him during the war. Obviously, that's a lie because he's clearly alive and kicking. But Sam, what I can't figure out is why he's killing angels now. Like, why wait all this time to get his revenge? I don't think we're getting the whole picture here."

Sam nodded quizzically and glanced up to see Dean silently padding down the bunker to the room they had laid Castiel's body in. He felt sorry for Dean. It wasn't the first time he'd lost his beloved angel, but it was the first he had a body to bury. He hadn't the heart to tell him yet that Cas wasn't coming back this time. A big part of him still hoped that he would for his brother's sake. None of this made any sense. Just yesterday, they had stopped just to get some food and drinks so they could get back on the road. They hadn't even been gone for twenty minutes when they found Cas and the Impala pummeled to bits. It was only a short day's drive back to the bunker, but they had no means of transportation and it took them what seemed like forever to get one of their hunter friends nearby to come pick them up. Ever since, they'd been held up at the bunker clinging onto anything they could find to kill the seraph with a screw loose.

Weary green eyes slid down the door to the handle, hesitating as the door was slowly pushed open revealing an angel lying peacefully, silent and unmoving. Dean was hoping for something, a hand or foot that had moved since he left to go sit with his brother. He had memorized every shape and curve of the body that lay so lifeless. It made him shift uncomfortably at the thought of how comforting it felt. He tried cleaning Cas up the best he could, wiping off all the dirt and blood that covered his face. He even went as far as taking off the cooked clothes, it still baffled him how he could wear the same thing over and over for years and still look in decent condition. That was until he got electrocuted by the cloaked maniac. Dean felt a wave of anger surge through him like blood lust on a full moon. He could have saved Cas, he should have. There were still so many things he hadn't been able to say to him. Dean was trying his hardest to forgive Cas for leaving him with no explanation but as far as he was concerned, the worry and heartache were far worse than the beatings he ever took. Above all else, the one thing that weighed the heaviest? He hadn't told him he was sorry too. He knew very well why Cas didn't feel like he could trust him with the Angel Tablet, which stung at him like a thorn in his side. They had been through so much together and he knew as much as Cas that they needed to learn how to trust again. It was plain and simple to him. He would do anything for that stubborn bastard without a bat of an eyelash. He just wished so badly that Cas would listen to him. But that was all hindsight now. He just wanted Cas to know that he was sorry and that he wanted to move on from it. All he wanted was his angel and Sam to be better. He didn't want to think what life would be like without them. They were his everything and nothing else mattered to him. Not even sealing up Hell for good. His heart sunk and he pushed the thoughts aside. He gripped Castiel's limp hand and tipped his head down, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. _If he even wakes up from this._

An hour had gone by when Dean solemnly walked back to the main room and slumped in a chair. Kevin and Sam were still sitting unmoved, researching any theory they could come up with. He frowned at the sight of the two. "Did you try calling Garth? See if he knows anything we're missing..." Dean trailed off, eyes becoming vacant. Sam looked up and snorted, "of course not. Nobody's seen or heard from him in weeks." Dean scoffed and sagged his head on a propped hand to which Sam focused his narrowed gaze, furrowed with concern. "Man, you really should get some sleep. We aren't getting any closer to figuring this thing out right now, so why don't you–" Dean interrupted his brother's lecture. "I'm fine, Sam. Would you stop?" He pressed his fingers into his temples and sighed. "It's just that sleeping right now... I keep seeing his face, Sammy. Every time I close my eyes, there's Cas pleading for us to get out of there and now he's gone and I didn't do a damn thing about it." Sam's expression softened with sympathy, wanting more than anything to cheer up his big brother. "We'll find the asshole that did this, Dean, and he'll pay for what he did. I promise."

Sam tried to shake Dean awake from his dreamless coma, using more force when his first attempt failed. He woke up in a daze, unsure of where he was or how long he had been out. Sammy's voice became clearer as the fog began to lift from his head. "Dean. Come on, wake up. Deeeeean." He grabbed at Sammy's arm, responding with a muffled grumble which sounded like something between 'what' and 'no' but Sam didn't care. He patted him on the cheek, which Dean desperately tried to shoo away, swatting at him with his hands. He rolled over on his side to avoid his annoying little brother from interrupting him even more. "Dean. Seriously. Get up. It's Cas, he's awake!" Dean flailed off the tiny couch he was curled up on with a thud, clambering clumsily to his feet. "Say what?" Dean hurried down the corridor, stumbling into a jog.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean flung open the door to the bedroom to find Cas still lying in bed, still unmoved from the last time. Except something had changed–his eyes were open, but only just. Dean knelt next to the bed, wanting to slump to the floor with relief. "Cas? Can you hear me?" He rolled his head over weakly to look at Dean and tried to pull a corner of his mouth into a pitiful smile. "Dean." His rasped in a whisper. Dean cupped the angel's cheek in his hand, softly running his fingers to smooth his tangled hair. "Hey, buddy. We thought you were a goner there for a bit." Sam folded his arms, his oversized frame making the doorway look inferior, squishing Kevin to peak through the side. He was beaming inwardly at the sight of his brother being reunited with Cas again.

Cas closed his eyes and exhaled roughly, reopening them to focus on Dean again. "Help me up, would you?" His voice was stronger this time but still hoarse. He moved his hand over to Dean's and wound his fingers around waiting for the lift that he was sure would come. "Um, Cas... Are you sure that's such a great idea? I mean you got electrocuted. I watched you die." He shook his head and squeezed Dean's hand, reassuring him it was necessary. "Just to sit up, Dean. I'm so stiff." Dean batted his eyes at Sam who just shrugged his shoulders. He turned back to Cas. "Alright then." And with a quick pull Cas was sitting upright, sort of. Some pillows later and Dean felt confident he could leave the angel to rest upright without falling over.

Sam and Dean walked away from Cas's room in silence. Sam nudged Dean's arm with a smirk to which he responded with a dramatic eye roll. He was starting to get tired of everyone assuming him and Cas were a thing. Sam quickly changed the subject noting Dean's irritation. "Hey, so I think Kevin found a lead for us. We should go check it out." Dean stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing with conflict. Sam gave him a sharp look and argued, "Dean, I know what you're thinking but Cas isn't going anywhere right now. I'm sure he will understand. Besides, it will be good for us to get away from this place for a few hours." Dean nodded thoughtfully. Sam chuckled adding in, "you know, we could stop at the diner. I hear their pecan pie in on special this week..." His brother's eyes grew wide having to decide whether to give in or not. A victorious smile began to creep across Sam's face. Dean scoffed and crossed his arms. "Don't objectify me." His eyes darted from Sam to the nearest wall and back before stomping off with a grumble.

Dean shuffled quietly back to Cas's room, careful not to wake him up if he was sleeping–which he wasn't. He sighed. _Of course... angels never sleep_. "Hey, how are you feeling?" Cas looked up from the book he was trying to read. "Conflicted. Why does Ana continue to allow Christian to abuse her? Because he gives her gifts?" Cas showed great concern for this 'Ana' character which made Dean smile inwardly. He lifted the book from the angel's lap to see what it was and immediately dropped it in disgust. "Cas! Seriously? There are thousands of books here and you're reading 50 Shades of Grey. Where the hell did you even find this?" Cas flustered by Dean's reaction to his choice of book retorted, "it was on that shelf over there. It looked intriguing so I... Dean, why am I sensing this is bothering you?" Dean inhaled sharply to compose himself. "Whatever floats your boat, man. Hey, so Sam, Kevin and I are going out for a few hours, you good?" Cas nodded, wanting to get back to his book. "I'll, um, hold down the fort." He smiled sheepishly at Dean. He gazed at the angel for a minute, deciding whether he should really go. He threw his hand up and dismissed it with defeat. "Right. So you have fun with your porno. We'll be back later tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel pressed his hands to his cheeks when Dean left the room, unsure of why he was feeling such a strange sensation of jitters and twisting in his stomach. Becoming aware again of the opened book that still draped over his legs, he let out a deep sigh trying to control the sudden irregularity of his heartbeat. He wanted to read more but his thoughts kept drifting back to the soulful, tired eyes that seemed to look straight through him and all that he was. The only pair of eyes that were familiar to him anymore. It made his insides twist, which was also a foreign feeling for him. But they were so full of life, yet empty all the same and it saddened him at the thought of the burden that Dean constantly carried on his shoulders. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, resting his hands back on his clammy cheeks. Maybe a change of scenery would do him some good.

He stumbled to his feet holding on to any stability he still had in his weak legs. It was taking a lot longer to heal from this than he'd hoped. It didn't surprise him though, considering his insides had just been scrambled inside out by Holy Lightning. Why were his brothers always such dicks? He wobbled down the maze of exposed brick and mortar halls, bracing himself on the walls as he went. Reaching for the door handle to the entrance of the bunker, he shoved with all the strength he had but the door remained sealed. He double checked that the door wasn't locked, flicking the deadbolt back and forth a few times. _Shitshitshit not again!_ He stumbled away from the door as quickly as his trembling legs would allow, tripping over his feet like a baby learning to walk. He swore up and down if he ever recovered from this he was going to kick someone's ass and he didn't care who. Cas frantically canvassed the room for something to shelter him, finding an oversized stone table to crawl under. He could hear the thunder claps outside and what he was sure was rain this time but one thing he was sure of, he wasn't going to be target practice again.

"Honey, I'm home!" A voice boomed throughout the bunker, rattling the pictures hanging from the walls. The hidden angel cringed. It oddly reminded him of when they were kids playing hide and seek except not so much now that he was a sitting duck. It was that hopeless feeling that came flooding back to him so eagerly, reminding him of how long he had really been around, well living anyway. Was it one million? Or two? It was all a giant blur that didn't matter. He recalled his brother's mischievous games being like a game of cat and mouse in which case, the mouse sorely lost. "Oh! You're right, this is just like the good old days, isn't it? How fun that was!" Castiel cursed under his breath and tried to force his mind blank. _Damn him._ He could see the powerful angel now, wandering around in the adjacent room, casually inspecting the surrounding space. "You know, this would be a lot easier for both of us if you, oh I don't know, stopped hiding Castiel." _Over my dead body. _Cas tried crawling silently to a more hidden space only to jump back at a pair of jean legs and chucks that appeared out of nowhere. He swallowed hard, slowly raising his eye level to meet those ice cold eyes framed by slicked back hair that scowled at him. He tisked and rolled his eyes before grabbing Castiel's arms, yanking him to his feet. Cas grunted from the pain and lolled his head back before regaining enough strength to straighten himself out. "You're looking rough, little brother." Cas squinted and spat out a frail snarl, "Yeah, no thanks to you." Barachiel grinned deviously. "What can I say, I get carried away sometimes. Let me help with that." Castiel cringed in anticipation for another round of searing pain, but it never came and he opened an eye. "What? How–what?" Cas was so confused that was standing on his own, pain free. The bewildered look on Cas' face made Barachiel's grin turn into a wolfish smile. "You're welcome." He tapped his fingers together like a wave, sparking blue electricity that rolled up and down with the motion. "I'm afraid I don't have a lot of time to spend here. I'm a wanted man you know." He chuckled to himself. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he tilted his head and suggested, "Shall we?"

Before Cas could ask what he meant, another searing pain shot through him, paralyzing him as he hit the floor, only they were back in the dreadful place they spoke last. He clambered to his feet, angrily brushing off his clothes. "It really isn't necessary that you kill me every time you want to talk, Barachiel. I was perfectly fine before you–" Barachiel was on him in an instant and pushed a finger against Cas' lips, shushing him with a narrow stare that made Cas squirm. His mind began to spin, thinking back to the boys. They would surely be home soon and he couldn't have Dean find his lifeless body heaped on the floor. It would devastate Dean. He couldn't do that to him again. Not now. Barachiel sneered, stealing him away from his thoughts. "Castiel, for God's sake stop worrying about your boyfriend. I promise I'll have you back before you can say 'I do.'" He crowed at Castiel's perplexed expression that begged his questioning of what so many people always mentioned to him. He couldn't understand how nobody realized that he and Dean were not romantically involved. Barachiel shook his head, hiding the gloomy, reminiscent gaze that quickly left as soon as it his overcame his brooding features, reminiscing back to when he too had fallen for a human. Quite literally, too.

With no warning, Barachiel whirled around on his heel and clapped, sparks of lightning escaping wildly from his hands. The sight made Cas flinch. "Right! So, baby brother! Tell me, what does shutting down all of Heaven mean to you?" Cas cocked his head to the side and squinted. "I've heard stories but I've been told it isn't possible." Barachiel turned back around to study the confused angel and tisked again, bopping Cas on the nose with his index finger. "Yes. Well, not exactly. Well, no. It's a load of horseshit. You see, you have to complete a series of tests to do this and the only way to do it is if you're the scribe of God. Follow? Good." He was speaking so fast, Cas had to really try to concentrate. "The reason you're here and not out there with the Winchester's right now is because I think something terrible is going to happen if it isn't dealt with. And guess what, bucko, you're the only one who can stop it." Cas furrowed his brow. "I don't understand what you mean. You know I can't go back to Heaven, they'd slaughter me." Barachiel sighed dramatically, rolling his big eyes. "Don't be so foolish, Castiel. I didn't say you're going back to Heaven did I? No, of course not. Just think of it as being a messenger pigeon." Cas gave him a scathing look and growled, "I am not your errand boy, you ass. Find someone else." Barachiel gave him a look of disdain. He knew Castiel wouldn't be an easy one to persuade but he had to try. "Oh, come on. Don't make a desperate angel beg, Castiel. Just hear me out." Castiel slouched, reluctantly agreeing to listen to his certifiably insane brother.

"Good. Great! Right, so to make things as simple as I can for your wee little brain to understand, as you already know a long time ago Metatron left Heaven seeking refuge on Earth like the lot of us during the Rebellion all the while keeping his guardian Seraphiel at arm's length. During the Rebellion, Seraphiel and I had a bit of a confrontation and let's just say he's wanted my head mounted on the Staff of Moses for a long time. Jolly fellow, that one is. Anyway all these years, I've stayed in hiding–running for what felt like millennia." He wiped his hand across his face and Cas could see anger forming across his strong features, but he wasn't about to ask him about it. "Metatron is planning something big, Castiel and I can't get close enough to him without Seraphiel trying to send his troops after me, as you so conveniently walked right in the middle of." Cas pursed his lips and glowered at how nonchalant Barachiel was for killing him not once but twice now. Barachiel became quiet and said in an almost desperate whisper, "you have to understand if they kill me Castiel, all the angels are at risk, including you and without the angel tablet, son you're pretty much screwed."

Cas buried his fingers and gripped at his dark hair, trying to hide the frustration he that hit him like a Mac truck. He felt like a failure, and for what? Crowley had the Angel Tablet, Naomi would surely kill him if she got the chance, and then there was Dean. He had let him down so badly that it hurt him just to think about it. The one person who had been there through everything and never gave up on him; Cas owed him everything he had left. He could see clear as day, when he lied to Dean about the souls and letting the Leviathan loose on the human race, when Dean pleaded for him to leave Purgatory, not to mention when Naomi tried to make him kill Dean by his own sword. He always left Dean and Sam to clean up mess after mess without a single thought. His heart sunk, feeling as if it were shattering into a million tiny pieces. He had to make things better. There was no other way.

Barachiel coughed, catching the drifting angel's attention and continued. "As I was saying, I can't get close enough to warn Naomi about Metatron because Seraphiel is her right wing man. That's where you come in. I need you to have a little chat with Naomi and try to convince her of the information I'm giving you." Cas gave him a long hard look before responding, "How can I trust you? For all I know you are just lying to me." Barachiel jerked his head sharply, looking up into the endless void above. It startled Cas when he cut him a piercing look and grinned. "I guess that's just something you're going to have to decide for yourself, now isn't it? But I'm afraid that's all we have time for. Remember, Metatron must be stopped. All of our lives depend on it." Barachiel smiled at him again, poking him in the forehead with his fingers. Cas scoffed. He was getting sick of being jerked around between life and death and was more than positive that he did it for fun. He closed his eyes at Barachiel's touch, awaiting the nauseating journey back to his vessel.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean threw his duffel with a heavy thud in a panic seeing Cas sprawled out on the floor in front of him. He dropped to the contorted angel's side scooping his limp body up in his arms. He flicked a glance to the entrance for Sam and Kevin, but they were still outside talking to the person that graciously gave them a ride back from Iowa. He pulled Cas' dead weight closer to his body, cradling his head gently in his hand. "Cas, come back to me. C'mon man, don't do this again." His body heaved as he let out a ragged breath, trying desperately to push away the lump that was forming in his throat. He leaned over the angel's body pressing an ear to his chest when he heard the steel door squeal open. He lifted his head and pleaded to his brother. "I think–I think he's dead Sammy! Christ!" Sam sucked in a breath, creases creeping across his clammy forehead with grief. "Maybe he's just unconscious again. We should get him back into bed, Dean. Hey, look at me." He knelt next to his distraught brother, clasping his hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out, we always do." He pursed his lips and weakly climbed to his feet, shooing Kevin away and scuffled hurriedly down the corridor to the bedroom they were keeping Cas in.

It startled Dean when Cas' torso surged up, gasping for air like he had been trapped underwater for too long. Relieved, Dean slouched where he sat and groaned, still keeping his grip on Cas. He dropped his eyes to the wide blue ones that were now fixed on him. Cas reached up shakily to Dean's face, bumping his fingers clumsily along his cheek. "You gotta stop dying on me, man. You're gonna give me an ulcer." Cas smirked and clung to Dean's shirt, refusing to let go of him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything." He rasped, fumbling over his words, unable to find the right thing to say. Dean dismissed him with a shake his head, letting a faint smile reassure the angel. "Let's get you back to bed. Can you walk or do I have to carry your feathery ass too?" Cas gave him a disapproving look, letting his mouth gape open. "Dean. I'm serious. I want so badly for you to be able to trust me again and I will do anything to…" he had to pause to catch his breath, wheezing as he spoke. "…I want to fix this, Dean. Please stop dismissing me. I need you to hear me. I need you." Dean's face grew very serious if only for a moment before nodding his head. He heaved the angel up in his arms and set him down on his feet, pulling the angel close against his body for support. They hobbled in silence to his room when Sam rounded the corner, his face contorting into something that looked somewhere between shock and relief, but mostly a warm smile. He wrapped Cas' free arm around his shoulders and helped Dean get him to the room, back into bed.

Once the boys had left, Cas laid motionless under the cozy bedding, staring at the ceiling. He went over everything Barachiel had shared with him, coming up with some of his own theories. How could he not believe him? Nobody had seen the Scribe of God for thousands of years and Seraphiel never had a reputation for being what humans would call a trustworthy friend. And it really would be that simple to kick the angels out of Heaven if given the right opportunity. Somehow he had to get Naomi alone and away from Seraphiel, all the while trying not to die any more this week. It was all too excessive for him and he was getting tired of it. Just a few years ago he had been a righteous Angel of the Lord. Obedient, loyal. He once thought those were his best qualities but these days he wasn't sure of anything. Especially himself.

Castiel was growing more and more restless being left alone to his own devices. He felt it was time he get up and stretch his legs. At least Barachiel left him in better shape the second time around. He still wasn't sure if that was something he should have appreciated, but given the circumstances he was happy to get even a slight improvement. He shuffled to the main room, hoping he would find at least one of the guys. All three looked up from their stacks of books and papers, surprised to see the angel up and moving so soon. Sam smiled, his sunken face creasing with dramatic dimples. It was disheartening to watch Sam go through the Trials knowing he was worthless to help. No human should have to do what he's done and yet, here he was, still chugging along. He reciprocated the smile before glancing over to Dean, holding his gaze before Dean could hold his eyes anymore and looked away. "Good. So since you're here, wanna help us find Barachiel?" Sam pointed to a chair, motioning him to sit. Cas settled in the chair shakily and took in a deep breath. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about that." Dean arched an eyebrow in question and Cas quickly looked away, feeling his cheeks flush bright red. He didn't know why he kept having all these feelings but they were incredibly distracting.

He told them everything. Who Barachiel was and what he was up to, the reason he kept dying so frequently. Dean nodded his head slowly, trying to soak everything in. "Well shit. Wish we had known that sooner." Cas shrugged raising his hands indifferently. Kevin twiddled a pencil between his fingers and added, "So you're saying you believe this Barry guy, even though he's killed you twice. Sounds sketch to me. I mean, Metatron seemed pretty out of the game. He even rescued me from Crowley and it sounds like Barachiel has plenty motive to destroy Heaven on his own accord." Cas rubbed his head. Kevin had a valid point but then again, Metatron had just as many reasons. "This isn't something I can just ignore. I've already done enough damage up there. I have to at least try to do something."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'd love to know what you guys think of this so far-critique welcomed too! And thank you thank you thank you for reading! I love seeing when my stories get favorited/followed. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside :) Love you all! **

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It was so unbearably quiet in the bunker that one could hear the blood pumping through their veins. Cas had stayed up long after the boys had turned in for the night and he was becoming more exhausted and aggravated and defeated by the minute. He had flipped through every book he could get his hands on and still could find nothing more to elaborate on all that was Metatron and Seraphiel. He raked his hands through his tangled hair, eventually bringing them back to bury his face. He growled in frustration and shoved himself from the desk, getting up to pace around the room. _There has to be something_. He looked down to his bare feet and stark white legs, squinting at his drowning thoughts. Why had Barachiel gone through so much just to reach out to him? Nothing made sense anymore and it frightened him. Nor was he certain that he could face Naomi again after everything she had done to him. But if Barachiel was right, what choice did he really have? He couldn't bear the thought of Metatron destroying Heaven just for the hell of it. The feeling of being practically useless made him even more agitated, his cheeks flushing hot with anger.

"Cas?" He jerked and whirled around surprised to see Dean standing in front of him, bleary eyed. The angel's expression softened from the one he wore moments before. "Did I wake you?" His face wrinkled apologetically. "I was just going to get a glass of water…" Dean gestured lazily toward the kitchen, "…what are you still doing up?" Cas contemplated the lumbering man's question. Everything about Metatron and Naomi was making him uneasy and restless, not to mention he was still ailing from his unpleasant experiences with Barachiel, but he wouldn't dare tell Dean that. "I don't know, I just started reading and uhh, well..." He looked back disappointingly to the endless stacks of books everywhere. Dean surveyed the mess of books with sleep ridden eyes deciding to save it for another time, instead sighing with a dismissing shrug. He stretched out his hand to Cas, motioning for him to come closer. "It's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. You won't be any good if you don't let yourself get better first." Dean clasped his arm around Cas' shoulders and guided him back to the bedroom.

When they got to the door, Dean paused looking at the ground, his jaw ticking. "Cas, I know you feel like you need to set things right, but just promise me you won't do anything stupid. I don't think I could..." his voice trailed off, poorly hiding emotions he was desperately trying to choke back. "You and Sammy, you're all I have left. I couldn't bear it if I lost one of you again." His cracked and faded, unable to find anything else to say. It broke Cas to see the strongest person he knew so irreparably damaged, putting forth so much effort just to suppress the decades of loss and heartache. Cas swallowed hard, trying to push back his own memories of when Naomi tried to make him kill his only true friend. He found himself wiping away tears that stung his eyes; a new experience that terrified him.

Before he could back away to hide this horrible new sensation, Dean reeled him in, wrapping his arms around Cas. He was beyond familiar with this hugging thing that Dean did a lot, but he never understood why until it finally clicked somewhere in his thick skull. Cas was vulnerable and scared and this human–this incredible, forgiving human–was comforting him. The angel bunched fistfuls of fabric between his fingers, muffling stilted breaths into the hunter's shoulder. He was unsure where to place his limbs, but after watching enough times, he did the only thing that came to mind. He shivered at the feeling of Dean's breath tickling his neck and gentle hands that smoothed his messy hair. The strength from Dean's arms almost crushed his fatigued body but he didn't notice. Something wailed at Castiel's insides, twisting and swelling and warming his chest to the point that it was almost painful. He didn't want to let go and this time, neither did Dean. Even if it was socially awkward by his standards.

Dean pulled away from the angel with a reassuring smile and patted his shoulder. Cas met his stare and timidly raised his hand, brushing his fingers softly against Dean's cheek. The green eyes he enjoyed watching so much blinked in surprise, a faint gleam shining through his worn features. Dean stared nervously back at the angel, tightening his mouth in a witless nod. Cas lowered his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck, smirking. "Good night, Dean." He shuffled away from the door and crawled in bed, leaving Dean standing motionless in the hall. He walked blankly back to his room, unsure of what just happened and the feelings that kept tugging at him, begging to be noticed. Feelings he always denied, never wanting to pry deeper than what was on the surface. It scared him more than any monster he'd ever fought. He rubbed his eyes and forced himself to think of nothing more until he dosed off again.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel laid face up at the edge of the bed, letting his feet dangle and brush against the floor silently. He hid his face in the crook of his arms, trying to sooth the spinning in his head which felt like on the verge of imploding. Every sensation swirled around him like fallen leaves on an autumn day, brushing past and tickling his senses before slipping away from his grasp. Feelings weren't something the angel was used to and even more so, he didn't know how to handle them. He was drowning in something he was so unsure of and it terrified him more than anything. There were so many times that he acknowledged Dean's arms pulling him in tight, but every time he was too unsure, too clumsy with his own thoughts to return the gesture. It wasn't as if he was unaccustomed affectionate embrace, but rather his body seemed to lock up when Dean overstepped the line he so frequently referred to as _personal space_. But it was the only thing that seemed to make sense– the feeling of having Dean so close to him. The warmth emanating from the hunter's body–the curve of their bodies melded to one another–it was the only feeling he genuinely understood and it only made him crave more, like kryptonite and Dean was his. He let his mind drift to images he had collected over the thousands of years he walked silently among the humans. The thought made him frown before it dissipated into a smirk. When people learn of angels their general consensus of them is innocence and obedience and yet Cas knew all too well how much angels desired love and lust and affection. It surprised him that Dean still held him to a lower standard than what he was really capable of.

His deep blue eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but it didn't stop his vessel's heart from feeling like it would beat out of his chest. The overwhelming amount of thoughts that snaked through his mind made his face hot his stomach twisted and kneaded in knots. A quiet whining noise slipped from his mouth as he pushed himself upright. Somewhere in the midst of his scattered thoughts, something clicked. Something that hadn't before. Resolve seemed to wash through his entire existence, seeming to cleanse him in a way. It was almost as if he could feel the long lost presence that was once occupied by his Father. He realized the feeling of resolve was having purpose. He knew then that everything he had to do, everything he felt obligated to try to do –he had to do to prove himself. To prove to Dean that he was worthy of his trust. His actions, his mistakes–they were everything he tried to run away from for so long and it seemed right now. If he couldn't do it for himself, he would certainly do it for Dean. With a feeble push he got to his feet and crept back to the room where he had pulled out so many books. He paused to grimace over the mess he had made before putting every book back where they came from. The walls lined with shelves filled once again with endless amounts of books on either side of the enormous study room. Completing the monotonous task, satisfying his own standards of organization, pressed a hand against his hip and exhaled with reprieve. He rolled his head, letting his neck crackle and pop under the pressure before wandering off to the kitchen.

There was one book he saved and carried with his person. It baffled him why a recipe book was in the study, so far away from where it should have been. In all the years he'd been around, he still never tried cooking, but really. How hard could it be for an Angel of the Lord? Besides, he watched Dean do it with ease countless times. He studied the cover of the red and white checkered book, furrowing his brow as he read _Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. _As to why anyone would put _new _on anything was completely foreign to him. He thought it silly when _new_ wasn't _new_ anymore, but rather quite the contrary. It was not new. He scoffed and vehemently flipped it open to the breakfast section, scanning for anything he'd recognize. His eyes widened with amazement, quickly squinting with frustration. He didn't understand why humans needed ten different ways to cook a simple egg. He was finding this whole process of cooking to be tedious. He snorted and closed his eyes, pointing to somewhere on the page, his finger landing on poached eggs. He began reading the instructions, which flustered even more. Eating runny eggs with toast–how did they come up with this stuff? Cas blew out air on his face ruffling his hair away from his forehead. He tussled with one of the many pans from the cabinet, struggling to pry it loose from the others without making a racket and went to work. At least it was the thought that count.

Cas jumped unnoticeably at Sam who was the first to show up in the kitchen, his brain clearly still on autopilot outlined by weakened features that were much more noticeable in the morning. Cas knew the trials were treacherous for his health and the thought saddened him because there was nothing he could do to fix him. He halted at the doorway, his eyes skating around the room in disbelief. Cas grinned inwardly, so proud of what he had done before he couldn't contain the smile any longer. Sam eased himself in a chair at the breakfast table, unable to take his eyes off the food Cas had attempted to prepare. He was even more amazed by the fact that none of it was actually burnt and that there was still a kitchen in one piece. "Cas, man… this is incredible!" Sam turned his attention back to where Cas was, an earnest smile breaking through the pleasant shock. "Where did you learn to cook? It smells delicious." Castiel humbly waved it off, twitching at the sudden beeping noise from the oven. "Do you want some, umm, bacon? I read how to make it and–dammit!" He coughed and waved at his face as puffs of smoke escaped from the oven into his lungs. "It seems I have burned the bacon." Sam laughed. He reminisced at the times Dean had to cook when they were kids. Most of the food they ate was charred at first until he eventually got the hang of it. "Hey Cas, don't worry about it. Dean and I will clean up later. Come sit down," he reassured, patting part of the table adjacent to him.

Cas was about to sit when Dean sleepily lumbered his way into the kitchen. He fumbled with his hands waiting for the exhausted hunter to look up from his daze. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed as soon as he saw him, making Dean stumble back against the fridge, swearing under his breath. He was noticeably pissed but the swearing was short lived when he saw the mess of the kitchen and the smell of food. Cas had cooked eggs and toast and set the entire table for the three of them. The sight promptly coaxed him into a more pleasant mood. A beaming smile tugged at the faint dimples in his cheeks, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in unison. Cas stopped fidgeting and smiled back, anxiously urging Dean to sit so they could eat.

"So Cas, what's the special occasion?" Dean said, still chewing on a mouthful toast. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean never was one for table manners, no matter how much their dad and Bobby tried. Cas pushed his food around his plate, the familiarity of uncertainty of what to say setting in again. "Well I umm… I thought you would like to have breakfast for once." He held an uncomfortable stare before Dean had to look down at his plate, cheeks turning bright red. Sam cleared his throat, speaking for the both of them. "Well thanks, Cas. Means a lot." He pressed his mouth into a quick smile before shoveling another bite of food. Dean bobbed his head in agreement, stealing another glimpse at the angel who had fretfully gotten up to clean the mess. Finishing his food first, Dean jumped up to help the angel, bidding Sam away from the kitchen. He wanted his brother to rest when they weren't out hunting and he didn't think something as novel as washing dishes was necessary for him.

After cleaning up in silence for what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally broke. "Cas, did you even go back to bed?" He gently elbowed Cas over so he could grab the last of the cookware. "I appreciate you doing this, I really do but you just had a tablet ripped from your body, got shot and then killed twice by a shock happy angel… you really need to take it easy, man." Cas paused, staring blankly at the countertop. "Dean," he breathed slowly before shaking his head, dismissing what he was going to say. "It doesn't matter. Besides, you know I don't sleep anyway. But it's given me a lot of time to think about all of this–about us." He paused again, cringing at his contemplations before finally looking up to face solemn eyes examining him. "I don't want to hide anything from you, Dean. Not anymore. I want you to be able to trust me again." Dean sighed and softened his expression. "I'm going to try to reason with Naomi. I think what Barachiel had to say is the truth but either way she deserves to know. I don't want their blood on my hands. I couldn't bear it." Cas searched his face for any emotion, scared of what he would say, scared of rejection. Dean stewed on Cas' words before clasping a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping closer to thumb grease off his face. "You gotta do what you gotta do. And I can't stop you. Just please come to us this time if you need our help." Cas blushed and chewed on his lip, gently lowering Dean's busy hand from his face and timidly tangled their fingers together. "Actually, I do need your help." Dean swallowed nervously, his breath getting caught in his throat from the surprise and strangeness of the warm fingers that curled around his own. Everything that had been pounded into his brain by society told him to pull away because it was wrong, but the touch of the angel's fingers between his own–it felt right. More right than it should've. He never realized he'd been desperately searching for anything that could fill the cracks of all the loss he'd endured in his insignificant life and for the first time, he was starting to feel whole again. He felt foolish for wanting more than just squeezing Cas' hand within his own. He cleared his throat, decidedly pushing his desperations aside. "Anything you need, Cas."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm so sorry I've been falling behind on publishing new chapters. School has been crazy, but I promise I will try to be better! Hope you enjoy 3**

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The plan was simple; at least that's how it started out. Cas sent the boys off in hopes of finding Metatron again, which wasn't easy to begin with but they all agreed that fooling him into "helping" them with the Trials was their best chance of getting close enough to stop him. It had taken Dean a few precious, aggravating weeks, but he finally got his baby back up and running in mint condition. Cas offered to help, but he realized that he was only hindering Dean, though he found he was useful enough to lift the car since they were short a jack. So there was always that.

Dean leaned against the polished hood, fiddling with a leave that fell on the hood of the Impala. He glanced up long enough to see the familiar trench coat whirling around as the bunker door squealed shut. Dean was worried about letting the angel out of his site, but what other option was there. He offered to drop Cas off at a nearby town before heading out with Sam to find Metatron. Cas still wasn't strong enough to transport himself, so he gratefully took up the offer–especially leery of every black cloud that floated above them. The last time he tried to teleport he crash landed in the middle of a lake, which was very unpleasant. All the years Cas had been around and yet he still never swam before. By the time he got to shore and back to the bunker night had fallen and he was soaking wet. Why humans enjoyed this was beyond him. He concluded swimming was a terrible way to pass time.

Cas prayed to Barachiel as they were driving silently down the road, telling him vaguely of his plan knowing that anyone could be listening in on what Dean and Sam called 'angel radio'. That still baffled him. The silence broke with the sound of Dean's voice drowning out his thoughts. "Cas, you call me if anything happens at all and I'll be there, alright? I don't care if it's because you stubbed your toe, just… call." Cas rolled his eyes, but tried not to let it show that he was getting annoyed by Dean's incessant worrying. He could see Dean was clearly apprehensive about leaving him behind and he didn't want to stir up anything by dismissing Dean so he nodded instead.

The pair got out of the car hesitantly, Cas absorbing the surroundings before turning back to Dean who had the trunk propped open with his favorite sawed-off shotgun. Summer was coming to an end and cold, damp rain was moving in to take its place. The tree lined street was deserted except for the occasional jogger or passing car. He handed Cas his archangel sword that he stowed away when Dean found Cas bleeding out in the middle of the road. "Well… I guess you don't need anything else then." Dean shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and trained his eyes on the ground, his body tense with discomfort. "Dean, I'll be fine. I promise." He moved closer to him so he could pull his sagging chin up gently, holding his green eyes with revere. Dean searched the angel's face before pulling him close to his body, wrapping his arms around the angel who mirrored the embrace. His voice was faint, muffled by the dark brown, overgrown hair, "Good, because I could get used to this." He nuzzled his face in the angel's hair briefly with a deep sigh before turning back to get in the car. Cas stood like a statue as he watched the black Impala roar off down the empty road, leaving him behind to start his mission.

He wandered aimlessly around the streets until he found an abandoned lot, double checking that there were no people around to see him. He knelt to the ground and closed his eyes, praying harder than he ever had before. _Naomi, if you can hear me… I need you to listen very carefully. All our lives are at stake here. _He paused, hoping to open his eyes to see her standing before him, but it was just him squatting awkwardly in the middle of the eerie looking lot with old, unkempt buildings encasing it. _Look, I know you have no reason to listen to me and quite frankly, the last place I want to be right now is here, possibly signing my death warrant. All I'm asking is five minutes of your time. So please, I'm begging you Naomi. _Cas opened his eyes to see nothing and growled impatiently. He had been foolish enough to believe that there was a slight chance this would work. He took away the one thing she wanted most and then lost it to Crowley's slippery hands, so really–why the hell would she even come. A big part of him hoped that she wouldn't just for the mere fact that he was terrified of what would happen if she got her claws on his mind again. He shuddered at the thought. _Please._

He got up, wobbly from the stance he was in and started back down the road, feeling defeated when he heard a flap of wings behind him. He swallowed hard and slowly twisted his body towards the noise, seeing Naomi standing in front of him with two of his younger brothers behind her with their arms crossed stiffly. "I didn't think you would show up." He straightened himself out with gumption. She scoffed and turned her head away from the fallen angel. "What is it Castiel? I don't have all day, so start talking." Castiel grumbled inaudibly before speaking up. "Okay. This is going to sound insane, so try not to kill me before I can get this all out…" He wanted so badly to high-tail it out of there, but he pressed his luck and continued on. "A few weeks ago I was struck down by Holy Lightning." Naomi opened her mouth to say something but Cas swiftly held up his hand. "Just… let me finish." Naomi clamped her mouth shut, eyes narrowing instead. "I know, I thought Barachiel was dead too. Everyone did. But back to the Lightning… turned out he struck me down so he could talk to me in private. He told me things. Things I couldn't just shrug off." His focus flicked to the two angels standing like statues. "Do they–" She cut him off, hissing, "yes, Castiel. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them." He shrugged weakly. "In his time of exile when we all thought he was dead, he'd been keeping tabs on Metatron and all the other fallen angels that had dropped off the map." He noticed her interest spiking and smiled inwardly, taking full advantage of the opportunity.

"He found out some bad things about Metatron. Naomi, he said Metatron has been working on a spell to shut down Heaven. That means kicking every single angel out of Heaven, including you. He is incapable of doing such a thing alone, but with Seraphiel… it's completely possible to destroy everything we've fought and died for. Whether this is the truth, whether you believe it or not, you need to be aware of it. I won't stand around and watch while Heaven gets destroyed. I don't want any more blood on my hands."

Naomi turned away from Cas and paced silently, stewing on his plea. "If it's any consolation, I'm trying to relocate Metatron as we speak, perhaps we can use him to our advantage in the meantime." She turned back to Cas, her face bitterly stone cold. "You do realize even if this is the truth, Seraphiel is one of the most powerful angels still alive and to force him to stand down… that would take a small garrison. Which we're limited on, thanks to you." Cas lowered his gaze to the ground. He knew there wasn't much to go on. "But," her voice lowered so the other angels couldn't hear, "I do know of someone who can." She grinned deviously, making Cas feel like he just committed a crime. With a snap of her fingers he was alone again in the abandoned lot. The place was starting to creep him out so he started walking, blowing out air as he went. He pulled out the cell phone Dean gave him from his coat pocket and fumbled with the buttons to dial the only number he had memorized. "Hello? Cas… you there?" He could barely hear the muffled sound of Dean's voice over the static. "Yes, I'm here. It's done." He realized he was almost shouting into the phone, trying to sound louder than the static. "O–ok. You feel… up to meet… us?" Cas sighed. What choice did he have? It was that or wait the night out in a strange, old town.

He closed his eyes, instantly crashing to the floor, rolling around in agony. Firm hands gripped his wobbly arms, heaving him back to his feet. Cas attempted to support himself, only to have his legs buckle under. He instinctively grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt, letting his dead weight sag against the hunter's supportive arm. This seemed to be becoming a regular habit and the thought made Cas cringe. He mustered up enough strength to lift his head, seeing Dean watching him endearingly. His green eyes flickered, unable to look away from the angel's arresting stare. Cas could feel uneven breaths tickle at his skin, the feeling forming a pit in his chest. He was starting to become more familiar with the feeling and understood now that it was nerves that made his chest flutter. Their faces were close enough that Cas could count his every freckle, every eyelash, every little scar. He delicately brushed his hand against Dean's cheek, the hunter leaning into his touch, pulling Cas tighter with the curve of his body. Dean dipped his head down, their noses pressing together, breath hot on their skin, their lips brushing softly. He pulled the angel's face in, kissing him hungrily, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt dizzy from the sensation, the release from so many years he built up denying himself. Cas drew away to look at him, his eyes consuming the hunter's blurry face. "Dean, I–" He was interrupted by the click of a door handle and Dean's suddenly tense body. He walked Cas over to set him slumping down on the bed as a surprised Sam walked in with dinner and beer.


	10. Chapter 10

The three sat in the Impala after sundown and waited for the cue to move in after Barachiel contacted Cas to meet. It was eerily dark out but he still looked for any sign that Barachiel had arrived. It wasn't hard to miss really, even if he couldn't see anything beyond the window. All he had to do wait for a thunderstorm. They were getting impatient as hour after hour passed with nothing. No rain, no thunder, no lightning. Sam and Dean had resorted to go fish in the front seat, even attempting to teach Cas the art of card games with little luck. Dean stared blankly at the angel who cocked his head and scrunched his nose. "But you aren't searching for a fish that lives in the water. Why go fishing when there are no fish involved?" Dean pressed his fingers into his forehead and breathed deeply before being able to compose himself to answer his excessively literal analysis. "Because it's a term you use when you're after something. You know, like uh, fishing for compliments." Cas furrowed his brow. "But why? What does 'fishing for compliments' have to with someone telling you to draw a card?" Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, waiting for Dean to interject. He wanted the twenty questions to be over just as badly as Sam. "I don't know, Cas. It just is. Ask the person who made it up." Cas slumped back in the seat knowing fully that he wasn't well enough to do that. He was getting the feeling that Dean wasn't going to answer any more of his questions, so he fiddled with his trench coat instead, still trying to figure out what 'go fish' meant. Every so often Dean would glance up at him before directing his attention back to their silly card game. Cas lazily shifted his line of vision out the window, wondering if this was a big waste of time when a crack of thunder jolted through the night sky. He frowned. Before Sam and Dean could look up, Cas was gone.

He had planned to meet Barachiel in a place of his choosing which happened to be a small town in Missouri. He walked silently along the road until he found a suitable location, soaking from the torrential rain pouring down. He made out a cloaked figure emerging from behind a building and shifted his direction. "Is this necessary?" Cas motioned to the sky above him. Barry shrugged, the rain instantly stopping from the gesture. "Humans have made you soft, Castiel." He gave Barachiel a depreciating sneer, his teeth barring through his lips. Barachiel mockingly threw his hands up in surrender. "Well I know you didn't come to chit chat, so how did your little meeting go?"

As Cas was finishing explaining everything, he heard wings flap behind him and spun around, cringing. That's what Naomi meant when she said she knew someone. He suddenly felt exceedingly dumb for not catching on sooner. Chances were this was going to come out horribly wrong and every part of him was screaming to run. He gripped to the sword hidden in his sleeve, trying to comfort his nerves. He watched Naomi circle out to the side of him in the corner of his eye and nervously looked back to Barachiel who was tensing up, preparing to either flee or fight. He glanced back to Castiel and glowered, who could only return a confused glance.

Naomi interjected Barachiel's silent tantrum by stepping forward with her hands out and visible as peace offering. "It's been so long, Barachiel. I never thought I'd say this, but it's nice to see you alive." Barachiel narrowed his glare and retorted, "I'd say the same if you hadn't tried to kill me so many times." A smile slithered across her lips. "Oh come now, Barachiel. You know it was just good business. Times have changed. I've moved on, you've moved on–I'd like to think." He rolled his eyes and looked back at Cas who was now fluttering his attention between the two of them, wearing his anxiety on his sleeve. "Castiel here has told me what you've been up to and I have to say, I'm quite impressed. But considering the circumstances, I needed more than just your word." Barachiel crossed his arms. "And?" She paused momentarily before taking another step. "And. You're right about Metatron. He is up to something. I asked Seraphiel and–" A crack of thunder startled them as Barachiel snarled, "you did _what_?" His face turned red as he paced, looking just seconds from breaking someone's neck.'

Barachiel promptly scanned the surrounding area, his body following the train of his eyes when a venomous growl came from behind them. Cas spun around to see a muscular red haired man with a set jaw stiffly striding towards them. Cas regretted not listening to his instincts to run earlier, he wanted to more than ever now. He couldn't recall the last time he had laid eyes on Seraphiel but he was certain he would have been just fine without it. This was almost like watching Michael and Lucifer duke it out all over again, except worse. Much, much worse.

"You're a hard man to find, Barachiel." He seethed, his jaw ticking more the closer he got. Barachiel stayed silent much to Cas' surprise. Naomi yanked him to the side by his coat sleeve, slowly trying to back away from the imminent confrontation. She projected into his mind, _it's best you get out of here, Castiel, as far away as you can. _He swallowed hard and was about to materialize but before he could, a whoosh of fire blocked their chance of escaping. "Sorry, can't have you doing that. I'll deal with you two next." Seraphiel growled, the two angels gawking at each other anxiously. The burly angel had jets of fire ignited from both fists, ready to fight. Barachiel still stood motionless as Seraphiel pushed forward, preparing himself for the moment he'd been running from for so long. "Brother, it doesn't have to be this way." Cas could have sworn it sounded like Barachiel was almost taunting Seraphiel. Maybe he really was certifiably insane. A bolt of lightning snapped Cas from his thoughts, refocusing on the powerful seraphs. He realized Barachiel summoned Holy Lightning as the blue static consumed his vessel.

The radiation from the lightning was unbearable to look at even for Seraphiel, who counteracted the light with a flare of flames, firing them towards Barachiel, slamming him into the brick building behind. He unsteadily jumped to his feet just in time to brace himself for another flare, breaking it apart with a bolt of electricity that struck Seraphiel like a cracking whip before he could evade it. He shrieked, doubling over from the agonizing pain searing through his shoulder, spitting a flame thrower from his mouth and scorching everything in front of him.

Through the blaze darted Barachiel, skin charring and boiling with flames that engulfed his body. He let out a feral howl, the ground caving in to his every move, the surrounding buildings crumbling under his quake. Rain began to fall and the fire that peeled away Barachiel's vessel was relieved. He whipped his hands together pointing them at Seraphiel, cracks of lightning shooting from his aim. Seraphiel leaped in the air in a spinning back flip, landing into a tucking roll only to duck as another bolt seared over his head. He pressed his hands to the ground twisting his body out from under him, kicking out flares from his toes. Barachiel spun off his heel, countering with another bolt that shot through Seraphiel's abdomen dropping him to the ground, electricity contorting and jerking at his limbs. Barachiel raised his hand again and paused, giving his fierce warrior brother a fair chance. "Stop this madness, Seraphiel! You and I both know how this is going to end!" He shouted over the crack of lightning he directed to the sky away from the battered archangel.

He gave a pained glance back to Cas and Naomi, drowning out the Holy Fire Seraphiel ignited, giving them the cue to clear out. The rain stopped as Seraphiel staggered back to his feet. Cas grabbed Naomi's arm and nodded at her, looking back only momentarily to see a clash of fire and lightning that glowed blindingly against the backdrop of the night sky.

The angels were back in the Impala before the deserted alleyway blew out in an explosion of flames, setting off car alarms and barking dogs nearby. "Drive!" Naomi and Cas yelped in unison. Sam and Dean jumped from their stupor at the sudden disturbance of them appearing in the car with no warning. Dean shoved the transmission in drive and squealed away from the town that was lit up like a Christmas tree. Looking out the back window, Cas could see the dulling glow were the explosion went off, the black smoke ascending high above the buildings, disappearing into the night sky. He sighed, wondering if either of them survived the explosion, turning back to observe the dark silhouette in the driver's seat before closing his heavy eyes. The last thing he remembered was Naomi explaining what happened before his vessel succumbed to unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry guys I've been putting this one off for a while...heh... but seriously no more procrastinating!**

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The sun was well into the sky by the time the sleep deprived men got back to the bunker. Cas hadn't moved a muscle since they left the scene and Naomi had long since vanished. Dean and Sam took turns keeping an eye on Cas to make sure he was still breathing, but from what they could tell Cas was out cold. Sam had tried to shake him awake once or twice but it was an effort wasted. Dean stiffly pulled himself out of the Impala and opened the backdoor, gently shaking the angel awake from his deep slumber. He bent closer, stroking his hand against his cold cheek with a stout pat. Castiel hastily opened his ocean blue eyes and inhaled sharply, unsure of where he was. "Hey buddy, we're home." Cas nodded faintly, leaning back on the head rest before Dean heaved him carefully out of the car. Weeks of no rest were finally catching up to him and Dean knew all too well how much he really needed it–they all needed it. He helped Cas undress and pulled the covers over him when he collapsed face first on the bed. Dean silently bent down, kissing him on the head before switching off the light.

Castiel plummeted peacefully into a darkness that was incomparable to the one he'd been recently accustomed to. It had been too long since a real sleep had greeted him and the feeling was all too weird for him, especially since the days and nights blurred together–the time forever lost to unconsciousness. The room was pitch black when he awoke, his eyes opening to see nothing. A streak of panic shot through him and he sharply yanked himself from the bed, realizing he was in the same one he'd spent weeks in before. Once he reassured himself that he wasn't dead again, he crept out to the main room of the bunker where it was just as lifeless as the room he was in.

Turning back down the hall to his room, he changed his mind and slipped into Dean's room instead. He could make out the rise and fall of his body cocooned in blankets and the sound of soft snores that broke through the abundance of silence. He quietly lowered himself on the edge of the bed and touched Dean's foot, wrapping his hand around it delicately. "Dean. Dean, are you awake?" His attempted whisper came out more like a croak. Dean jolted and almost flipped off the bed while turning over. "For fuck's sake Cas!" His voice was slurred after being woken up so abruptly. Dean pushed himself up enough get a better view of the angel sitting at the edge of his bed, at least of what he could make out in the dark. "S'everything ok?" Cas nodded, though he realized Dean couldn't see him. "Yeah…" He cleared his throat, remembering how he sounded the last time he tried to speak. "Yeah, everything's fine. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you." He got up from the bed to leave and Dean grumbled, "You. C'mere." Cas crawled in and he pulled him close, nuzzling his face in the crook of the angel's neck. Cas gasped quietly, trying not to let him hear the surprise that ignited shivers down his spine. He sighed, sliding his fingers between Dean's. "Goodnight, Dean." Dean moved his face so it was closer to his ear, warm breath tickling him as he mumbled into his hair. "G'night, Cas."

The wailing sound from the alarm clock shook them from sleep. Dean reached over to hit the snooze button but missed and knocked it on the floor. Cas groaned and grabbed for it so he didn't have to listen to Dean gripe anymore. As far as he was concerned they deserved a morning to sleep in. Cas rolled back over and stretched, clasping his hands behind his head with a fuzzy smile. Dean put his head on the angel's chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. The familiar smell soothed him into a stupor, his chest swelling with the same warmth he felt every time he looked at him. Cas cradled him, letting his fingers glide across the hunter's surprisingly soft skin. Dean hummed softly at the touch and pulled Cas closer to him, tangling their legs together. It had been a long time since Dean felt so comfortable and safe and he clung to every second of it as if it'd suddenly be taken away from him. "Dean?" Cas traced his hand over the outline of the hunter's side, smirking as Dean twitched under his touch. "Mmm?" Cas rested his head on top of the drowsy man and sighed. "Nevermind." Dean tilted his chin up to look at the brooding angel. "What?" Cas looked away, unable to meet Dean's pressing eyes. "Back when we, um…" he shyly rubbed a hand through his tangle hair, hesitating to speak. "…you know… the thing." Dean's eyebrow shot up as he chuckled. Sometimes he enjoyed the naïve side of Cas a little too much.

Dean pushed himself up on his elbow, nudging Castiel's chin towards him. He reached out to brush his fingers across Cas' parted lips, sliding his hand through his tangled hair. "What, you mean this?" He taunted, their lips locking in a hungry passion. Cas wanted to memorize every outline that drew him in, cupping Dean's face between his hands. Dean pushed Cas back against the bed, straddling his waist in between his gripping thighs. Cas stared up at him wide-eyed, his hands skate up his bare thighs, clawing at his skin. Dean bent over and kissed him hard, their tongues dancing amongst one another. Their skin crawled with excitement and nervousness, hands grabbing at clothing and skin, fingertips pressing into muscles they didn't know they had. Dean's eyes met the angel's, yearning to make up for the years of words left unsaid.

Dean effortlessly pulled Cas' shirt over his head leaving him in his boxers. A cheeky grin flooded his face when Cas tugged at his clothing, not nearly as practiced as he was, frustration budding on his face. Cas slid his hands over Dean's chest, settling on the nape of his neck, his body shuddering at his touch. Dean locked his fingers around Castiel's face and hair and reeled him in, kissing everything he could get his mouth on. He worked his way down his neck making Cas twist into him at the touch of his lips. Cas raked his fingers down Dean's back to his waist, skimming them under the elastic of his briefs, a desperate whimper escaping from Dean. He pulled at Cas' thighs as his mouth smothered his skin. "Dean," Cas breathed. Dean weaved their hands together and pinned them against the wall, dipping down, letting their skin melt together. He kissed the corner of Cas' mouth to his chest. He licked and kissed his stomach down to his waist, peeling away his boxers with his teeth. Cas breathed hard, tensing up over the tingling sensation from Dean's breath and lips on his wet skin.

Dean tore away the angel's boxers, glancing up at him as he stroked him. "You ok with this?" Cas nodded faintly, a smile parting his lips. Dean narrowed his gaze at the angel before purring, "I'm gonna make you cum." Cas gripped at the sheets, groaning as Dean took him in. "God, yes." He moaned as his head turned into the pillow and gasped with pleasure as Dean went down on him. Satisfied, he pulled away and wiped his mouth, endearingly watching the winded angel sprawled out before him. He crawled back over Cas and kissed him gently before laying down beside him. Cas slipped his boxers back on and curled up next to Dean who stroked his hair lazily.

The two jumped when they heard a squeak emit from the door, light flooding into the dark room. "Dean, man. Wake up, we got work to–shit!" Dean's eyes grew as big as saucers, snarling, "Sam! Knock first!?" Sam slammed the door, feeling awkward as all get out. A smile broke from his face and before he could contain himself the smile turned into an aching laugh. It was obvious they'd been getting closer the last few months, even Kevin had noticed. Just somehow it still surprised him to see them spooning. His brother. Dean Winchester. Spooning. He tried to gather himself as he spoke through the door, thinking of anything he could besides what was on the other side of the door. "I, um, was just going to say I made coffee and uhh… ok." He walked down the hall still laughing, shaking his head in amazement. He was glad Dean finally pulled his head out of his ass, but oh, he was going to have fun with this one.

Dean and Cas looked back at each other in horror; Cas immobilized next to Dean, mute as he'd ever been. Dean ran a hand through his hair, going over how this was going to play out with his brother. He didn't want Sammy to find out this way. Hell, he wasn't sure if he even wanted him to find out. Cas, picking up on his concern, whispered dryly, "you know it was going to happen at some point." Dean sighed and rolled his head to take in the angel next to him. _His_ angel. Just the thought made him forget about everything, if only for a moment. He hauled Cas' soft face in, indulging in one more kiss before getting up to throw on some recycled clothes. Cas followed suit with what little clothing he came in with. Dean's breath caught in his throat when Cas came up from behind and wrapped his arms snug around his waist. He smiled warmly and slid his fingers between the ones that held him close. _What the hell, right?_


	12. Chapter 12

Dean stalked around the corner to the room where Sam and Kevin sat, freezing up at the sight. Sam looked up from his laptop, watching his brother walking stiffly towards him. Sam smirked, his dimples pressing into his cheeks, his lips exposing a playful smile. Dean rolled his eyes dramatically and slumped in the chair across from him. He glared at Kevin, contemplating kicking him out of the room but the thought was shot down with a burst of laughter from the both of them. Dean turned red, finally snapping at the two. "Shut it!" Sam stopped laughing, but only just. Dean threw his hands up and rubbed his forehead, stopping to stare at them again. "I don't even know what to say to you. It just… It just sort of happened, okay?" He exhaled grievingly at Sam's unchanged expression. "Would you at least say something? You're killing me here." Sam broke out in more laughter at Dean visibly suffering in silence. "Dude, chill out. It's cool. Everything's cool." Dean was speechless at how relaxed Sam was after walking in on him and Cas. He was certain he'd be wigging out, but this–this was nothing like he expected. "You're not… you're not freaked?" Sam shrugged and chuckled. "Dean, man, that's all we do and if getting freaky with an angel is your kind of thing, then I'm not gonna stop you." Dean blew out a heavy breath, his eyebrows raising in relief. Sam smirked, clearly enjoying the entertainment he was getting from his humiliated brother.

"Anyway, I'm just glad the cat's out of the bag. Ya'll were starting to get on my nerves." Dean rolled his eyes and looked away, his heart jumping when he heard a gravelly voice from behind. "I don't understand your meaning." Sam snorted and tilted his head back. Kevin chimed in, enticing Dean's desire to strangle him. "Seriously? You guys wouldn't know love if it hit you square in the face." Cas stepping closer frowned, glancing at Dean who sat defeated in his chair. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, giving it light squeeze. "So what you're saying is everyone saw it but us?" They all shrugged in response, including Dean.

The men sat around the table in silence, all doing their part of researching a side job the brothers picked up in a nearby town where middle-aged women with the same birth year were disappearing, all around the same location. Cas had his nose buried in a book when he heard the all too familiar sound of ruffled feathers. His head shot up before the rest to see Barachiel doubled over, blood oozing from his gut. He fumbled to get out of his chair and scurried over to help him sit down. Sam rushed to get his supply of bandages that was starting to collect dust. Surprisingly. "What happened?" Cas mouthed with concern, unable to find his voice. It wasn't even the bloodied angel hunched before him that made him fret, it was the fact that he didn't know if Seraphiel was still at large and if that was the case, he had all the reason in the universe to be more than concerned. He cleared his throat, questioning more deliberately. "Seraphiel?" Barachiel wagged his head, mustering as much effort as he could to look Cas in the eyes. "Dead," He hissed.

Sam ordered Dean and Cas to pin Barachiel against the chair while he cleaned out the lacerations that sliced straight to his innards. His face wrinkled up with disgust, not ever recalling seeing intestines at any point in his time as a hunter. He packed the wounds and sewed them back together again, wrapping a bandage around his stomach to prevent anything else from falling out. At least the thought comforted him anyway. Dean grumbled something that sounded like the bunker was becoming an angel infirmary, earning him a whack on the head from Cas. "That should do it for now." Sam stepped back, satisfied with his patch work. Barachiel breathlessly expressed his gratitude before passing out in the chair.

When he came to, Barachiel awoke to the unpleasant surprise of four uptight faces staring at him intently. He blinked hard, making sure he wasn't seeing double. The pressure from their stares made him so uncomfortable he couldn't bare the silence anymore. "What?" He snapped. Dean's look immediately resorted to anger, stepping in closer to the battered archangel. "You don't get to ask the questions around here, bub. Especially since you're the one who showed up here with half your guts spilling out, so by all means, spill the rest." Barachiel tried to stand up but Dean shoved him back down in his seat and crossed his arms. He wanted answers, even if he had to force them out which he was hoping wasn't going to be necessary. Castiel flicked his eyes over to him, uncertain of what Dean had brewing in his head. "After you got the hell out of dodge and ran away like scared little dogs–" He appointed a glower at Cas, who retorted with a perturbed scowl. "–I got paid a lovely surprise visit from Metatron after I blew Seraphiel away with half the town and let's just say he wasn't pleased. That little weasel did this to me so I ran. Bloody bastard is no pencil pusher if you ask me." He gestured to his shredded abdomen, wincing at the sudden movement. Kevin wedged his way between Sam and Cas so he could get a better look at the ailing archangel. He sniffed, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "How do we know he's telling the truth?"

Barachiel sneered at the young prophet and turned back to Dean. "Can I...?" He wanted to stand up, feeling cramped by so many eyes peering at him. It had been a while since he had been in the company of so many and he trying his best to handle it. Part of him wanted to bolt and fly back to his isolated cottage in the forest, but obviously that wasn't an option in his current predicament. Dean stepped back to allow him some space, sensing that he was becoming overwhelmed with anxiety. "I don't care whether you believe me or not, but so far I haven't led you wrong so give me some slack here. I wouldn't have come here if it jeopardized you lot and I think you already know this." He gave a hardened look at both the brothers and Cas, who nodded reluctantly in agreement. "Makes you wonder why the Scribe hasn't been around lately, doesn't it? Look, Castiel. If we're going to stop Metatron once and for all, now is the time. He's scared and that makes him vulnerable to mistakes. I think we can catch him in one." Cas nodded, contemplating the bloodied archangel. "What options does that leave us with? If we can't find him then how the hell do you expect to kill him?" Barachiel smiled cunningly, turning back to face the men. "That's why I'm here."

Dean pulled Cas aside into the kitchen, leaving Sam and Kevin to chat with the melodramatic archangel. "Cas, what are we doing? I don't have a good feeling about this. Like at all. I mean come on man, you don't even know where Metatron is for starters and what if he pulls that shit on you? You'd be finished." Cas bit his lip, thinking as fast as his mind would allow. He shook his head looking at the floor, eyes darting around in concentration. He hadn't a clue either, but he wasn't going to let everyone down. Grasping at straws, he spoke low and slow. "I might have an idea, but you aren't going to like it." He glanced back up at Dean, long enough to see the worried dimples pressed into his cheeks as he waited for Cas to explain. "Didn't Barachiel say that the only way Metatron could shut down Heaven was with the help of Seraphiel? Well what if he went dark, not for the obvious reasons here, but because he needs someone to finish the trials?" He spun around to Dean, who was still trying to figure out where Cas was going. "What if I aide him with the spell and you guys can come up with some way of trapping him and–" Dean stepped uncomfortably close to Cas, growling under his breath. "No. No way am I letting you do that." Cas frowned, expecting his reaction. "Dean, what other choice is there? Let's face it, I would be nothing without Heaven and if I have to put my life on the line in order to save it, then that's a price I'm willing to pay."


End file.
